Hope
by shadowofafox
Summary: I had never heard of the Musketeers before. That was until LaBarge and D'Artagnan rushed into my life. I ran after Alexandre D'Artagnan to look for work, he was my only family left. I joined the Musketeers. They see me as a brother and a fellow soldier. But they see a lie. My name is Felicity Barreau, and I am clinging on to the hope I found. But how long will it last?
1. Chapter 1

"Jack, what shall we do? There's no way we can ever survive on our own."

"I know, Fliss, I know."

"But we have to do something, brother."

"I know. It will be alright don't worry"

Words of comfort did little to dispel my fear. Jack didn't show it, but I knew he was scared too. His clear blue eyes showed his fear. We rowed faster, the conversation lingering. Our hands were white with the cold and the biting wind stung my face and whipped my blonde hair uncontrollably. I felt miserable. The grey sea threw our humble fishing boat around. I knew the conversation that awaited us back on land. Words as harsh as the wind would greet us, but what could we do but turn a cheek to it. Just like everything else, no matter how impossible it seemed. Fishing was the only way we could survive, what with Ma and Pa gone. We lost them this winter, and I felt empty. I would never see them again.  
Pa would never hold my hand and silently reassure me again, and Ma's hands would never neatly plait my sandy hair again.  
There was a gaping hole inside me and nothing would fill it.

Jack was all I had left.

There was a thud as our boat hit the beach. "Bring it in, I'll start gutting the catch" Jack called over his shoulder as he hastily hauled two barrels of fish towards the town. Typical he would leave me to do the cold work!  
I tied the boat securely and headed to the dim lights of town as night settled around me. Wrapping my shawl tightly around me, my mind drifted back to the earlier conversation.  
We earnt little from fishing and there seemed to be less fish around. I could see no future here in La Rochelle. Maybe we could move to the city. Paris may have jobs but we'd have nowhere to stay.

I picked up the carving I had finished earlier. Jack's birthday gift had been on my mind for a long time. I couldn't afford anything from the shops and we weren't in the mood for celebrating, not when Ma and Pa weren't here. Home was too quiet now. Ma wasn't there to look after us, and Pa's chair was empty.  
I wrapped the small wooden boat in the last clean rag we had. I felt ashamed at the tiny carving, it had taken so long to make, but it looked awful to my eyes.

Reaching our home, a weather worn shack on the outskirts of the town, I was relieved. Hopefully Jack would have started a fire. I wondered what he would think of the gift. Would he like it? My eyes watered, when I imagined him being disappointed. Maybe I would be less of a disappointment to him than I was to Ma and Pa. I'm sure that I'm just a burden to him.

"Jack? Where are you?" I called. Fear twisted my insides when there was no fire, no fish barrels and no Jack. Where could he have gone to and who could I ask? It was night and I couldn't imagine that Jack had got lost. I tightened my dull shawl and lit a lamp. I had to find him. I ran as fast as I could to the only other place he could have gone.  
I ran to the well. His lover left him letters there some nights, his eyes would light up as he read the words from her. Elise, I think her name was. He rarely spoke about her,  
but I could tell he loved her. As I neared the well, I could hear a commotion. I turned the corner, my hands clinging on to the lamp, wishing it could be brighter. The wind increased but I forgot the cold as soon as I met the scene before me. Men were crowding, some were shouting, two barrels of fish were overturned with the contents spilling out but I didn't care. I shouted the only thing that I cared for when I saw that very person on the icy, muddy floor.  
"Jack!" I screamed, my voice hoarse from the cold and my fear.  
His battered eyes met mine, as his opponent kicked him again and again. I saw the fear he had been hiding. Men and women were stealing the few fish that were left but I didn't care.  
"Stop, you brute!" I ran in front of my brother, doing the only thing I could think of to protect him. I flung the lamp at his opponent, which caught his face before smashing on the ground nearby, the oil burning bright. The fire lit up the face of the attacker, and I knew him straight away. "Leave Labarge!" I shouted with as much courage as I could muster. I could only imagine how silly I must look, with my shawl and my terrified face.

"Well, would you look 'ere! The damsel savin' the lad! An' what are you goin' ta do if I don't leave, girl?"  
White hot rage swam through me and I could feel myself shaking with anger. The cold long forgotten, I dropped my shawl and, picking up the nearest stone, I hit the huge man square in his nose, before kicking him in the place my brother told me really hurt. The anger in me immediately mirrored in him.  
"Why you little wench!"  
Before I could think, he slapped me and pulled out his sword. I knew this was game over, for I had no weapon but a stone. "Fliss" a quiet voice behind me said, but I ignored it.  
"Even look at my brother wrong again, and I'll be sure to break your nose again." I sneered to the brute who only held his sword higher.  
None of the other town folk did anything, too cowardly to stand up to Labarge.  
Labarge spat at me and rushed up towards me, but my stubbornness won over my logic and I stormed towards him, too angry to think. I reached for the broken lamp and winced as the hot metal burnt my scarred hand but I had no time to do anything else as I swung it across the brute's face. Hearing a crunch which satisfied me more than I thought it would as it hit his head, I was too slow to see the sword heading for me. "Fliss, no!" I heard Jack call as the sword cut across my head, narrowly missing my eye. I saw no way out and fell as Labarge crushed me on some stone stairs. When had I got here?

The heavy weight was gone as Jack and a few more men hauled Labarge off me. "You'll regret this, Fliss" he hissed as he shook the men off him and stormed off, cursing as he went.

"Jack are you well?" I asked, concern lacing my voice when I saw him wobble unsteadily towards me.  
Growling in a low voice "Fliss, don't you dare do something as stupid and reckless as that again. You disappoint me." he answered.  
Shocked I could only follow him as he dragged himself to our home. The cold began to bother me again, as did the blood dripping in my eye. Labarge must have made a decent slice,  
I thought grimly. I hoped it wouldn't scar.

Once we were inside, I lit the fire in silence, my heart beating heavily in anticipation of what Jack would say.  
Looking behind me, I sighed as I saw him glowering at me.  
"Jack" I began, but he interrupted me "No, Fliss, I don't want to hear it"  
Before I could ask if he was alright, he stormed off to bed, telling me to go to sleep as well.

Once he was gone, the tears began to fall. I've disappointed him too, was my only thought before I curled up in front of the bright fire, not caring that my blood was drying in my hair.

-  
Morning came gradually, but I waited for it with a heavy heart. I had long given up trying to sleep as thoughts of the night pestered me. Was Jack okay I wondered. I had not heard a sound since last night. As the sun peeked through the windows, I started to get up. Strange, I thought, that Jack wasn't up already. He usually beat me to breakfast.  
I had yet to give him his gift, but I was certain he wouldn't like it. Especially after last night. Maybe it would disappoint him more. Deciding to let him sleep in a while longer, I wrapped my old coat around my aching shoulders and headed down to the beach to prepare the boat for another day of fishing. I could only afford one apple from the market, since all the fish from the day before was stolen. Jack deserved it more, so I would let him have it.  
Reaching the beach, horror greeted me, as I saw what was left of the boat.

The small fishing boat was reduced to ash and charred wood, so this was Labarge's revenge, I thought. Dread struck me as I realised that this was worse than being killed on the spot.  
No boat would mean for fishing, no income and no food. My mind drifted back to the conversation with Jack just the day before. How could I tell him that it wouldn't be alright.  
I started pacing, thinking of other options. I turned away, and looked back, hoping that it was just a dream. I looked around to see if this was really our boat, maybe Labarge will have mistake someone else's for ours. There was no chance. The remains of our hope was in ashes right in front of me and I fell to my knees as I faced the fact that we were so close to starving now.  
I did the only thing I could think of, and I ran back home to Jack. I ignored the strange looks from the people I passed, gaping at the dried blood on my face.

"Jack, Jack!" I called, my already pathetic voice breaking as I feared his reaction to the news. When I received no reply, I knocked on his door, hoping to wake him.  
"Jack!" I yelled.

Silence greeted me. He must be tired I thought.

Sighing, I opened his door, expecting to be yelled at for coming in without him asking me.

But silence met me.

"Jack?" I asked, my voice a whisper.

His room was dim. The sunlight cut through the tiny window showing the dust in the air. It smelt musty. And Jack. My Jack. Was lying on his leather fishing jacket. He looked so deeply asleep, his light hair flopped over the bruises on his face. But this sleep was too deep.

On the cold nights we slept together for warmth, his breathing would send me to sleep.

But he wasn't breathing.

And he wasn't sleeping.

"Oh Jack" I whispered. I reached for his hand, scarred like mine from fishing hooks, and found no warmth. His hands were like ice. I held it tighter, hoping that the harder I held on, the more warm he'd be.

"No. Don't leave me now. You said that it would be alright... How can it be now?"

My voice had reduced to nothing and, for the second time that morning, I fell to my knees.

The emptiness I felt inside me grew and my throat tightened painfully as my tears fell leaving wetness on the wooden floor.

I cried.

I cried more than I had cried when Ma had died and when Pa had died.

I didn't know what to feel.

I felt nothing.

His face haunted me from the night before. His eyes fierce with anger and disappointment. But he had been alive then. My tears fell more and more and I fell with them. Not letting go of his hand, I fell and cried more and more. Each time I looked at his face, more tears would fall. My strength abandoned me and I rested my heavy head on his chest.  
And this was how I stayed for the rest of the day. -  
Coldness came again as the night fell. I couldn't leave Jack like this. Clambering up, the world tilted as I realised I hadn't eaten. I guess I could have that apple now, I thought bitterly.  
But that would have to wait. I would say goodbye to the only one I had left.  
I knocked quietly on my neighbour s door and was greeted with the plump and ragged man, his breath leaving the lingering smell of alcohol. Taking one look at my face, and recognising me from the fight, he spoke up "What the hell do you want, trouble maker. The quicker you leave, the quicker Labarge will leave."

"Sir, I ask only for a large rag. Please sir, in exchange for the fish you had last night"  
At my last remark, anger flashed across his face but he turned and reached for a rag, cursing as he did. "Take this and leave, and take yer trouble with you." He slurred as I left in silence.

At home, I lit the fire to try and get more warmth. I looked towards my brothers room, and stood slowly, with the rag in my hand. My head was swimming, but I needed to do this. I left his clothes, but lifted him onto the rag which I had stretched out. I wrapped it tightly around, kissing his face one last time. Tears streamed down my face as I did so.  
"Goodbye brother" I whispered.  
Reaching for a shovel, I headed out a small hill nearby, which had a tree. It was no gravestone, but I would know he was here. I dug, and I dug, my tears mixing with the cold, wet mud.  
The wind increased and it was dark, except for a small lantern. Satisfied, I picked Jack up from the house and carried him to his grave.  
Laying him down, I climbed out again and picked up the shovel.  
"I'm sorry, Jack. So sorry that I disappointed you." I knew he couldn't hear me, but I wanted to tell him anyway. I buried my cold hands in my pockets, where one met the carving.  
As I pulled it out, the tears fells again when I realised that Jack would never receive the gift. He wouldn't see how hard I tried for him.  
I covered my brother with the dark earth and went home. Dark thoughts surrounded me and I shook in the cold. I sat down shakily in front of the fire and reached for the apple I had bought the previous morning. That morning when I had a boat, and a brother and hope. Now I had lost all three.  
I looked at the rosy apple that Jack should have eaten. It was bruised now, but I was too hungry to care. The sweetness made my eyes water. Jack should have had this.  
I didn't deserve to eat his food.  
But he is dead.  
Thoughts swirled around my mind.  
What was I going to do now?  
Finishing the apple, I needed rest. I grabbed Jack's leather jacket. The one he had worn every day. We had joked that he would marry it if he could! I wondered what his lover would do once she knew he was dead. Resting my head, I felt something crinkle underneath. Confused, I reached my hand in the pocket and found a letter with a seal I did not recognise.

Maybe this was from his lover?  
I shouldn't read his letter. Looking at the crackling fire, I wondered if I should burn it. My curiosity won over and I broke the seal and opened the crinkled letter. I hadn't read in such a long time, but I could read the scrawly writing. It was from Gascony. My curiosity spiked. What connections did Jack have in Gascony?

Reading on, it seemed Jack had asked for a job with "family friends".  
I thought hard. What friends did we have? Maybe they knew Ma and Pa. I know Pa had been to Gascony, though he didn't say much about it.

Maybe I would find a job there. Hope sprang up, but died away when I realised they wouldn't accept a fishing girl. I had to try. I must. After shoving the few belongings I had into my scruffy bag, and leaving my boots by the fire to dry for the morning, I lay down, thinking about what I would find in Gascony. It was a long way to walk, and I had no horse. Maybe I could ask someone for a ride, though it was risky.

Laying my head on his jacket, my mind drifted as I fell asleep thinking of the strange seal and the name it belonged found at the bottom of the letter.

Who was Alexandre D'Artagnan and how could I reach Gascony? 


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up was hard. My arms hurt from the previous night's digging. My stomach rumbled and I realised I would need to take a decent amount of food. I despaired thinking about using the last of the money on little amounts of food, but I had no choice.

After all, I was on my own now.

I rolled up a rag to take with me and wrapped my old shawl around my back. After finally putting on Jack's jacket and my boots, I slung my bag over my shoulder and left. Something stopped me as I closed the door. Was I doing the right thing? What would Jack say? My eyes stung as I remembered how disappointed he had been, but he was gone now. He could never be disappointed again. Letting a tear fall, I walked towards the market, hoping to find a little food to take with me.

I would need it.

I knew Gascony was two days away by horse, but I had none. It would be at least four days until I reached there. I sighed as my tired legs ached and my stomach rumbled again at the thought of food. I had very little with me so I would need to save it. It was warm in the sun and I smiled as I remember how Jack loved the sun. My smile departed when I remembered his face. So peaceful, but he was gone.

After a day of walking and dreaming, night fell and coldness fell with it. I shivered and pulled the jacket closer. I couldn't call it mine when it still smelt of Jack - salt water and fresh air. I needed to rest and as I neared a stream, I stopped. I had seen few people so I wasn't worried about bandits in this area. They were closer to Paris.

As I lit a fire, I thought of LaBarge and wondered what Jack had done to upset him. There was so much I didn't know. Maybe one day I would find out. I touched the wound on my head. It was a straight slash that went through my eyebrow and pointed to the middle of my forehead. It was sore and I wondered if it would get infected. Worried, I washed the dry blood off with icy water from the stream and shivered as some trickled down my neck. It reminded me of the sea.

Digging into my bag, my hands found a piece of stale bread I had picked up from the marketplace. Wetting it slightly so I wouldn't hurt my teeth, I ate the meal. Suddenly I worried how I would survive this walk.

What if this Alexandre D'Artagnan didn't need anyone anymore. What if he refused me when he saw I was only a 17 year old fishing girl.

My heart sped up at the thought but I was too tired to worry anymore. Pulling my shawl tighter and the jacket closer, I drifted off to sleep.

Days and nights passed in an endless cycle. I passed one rider galloping in the opposite direction, but I was too tired to care. I survived off bruised apples and stale bread. My mind constantly drifted to Jack, and thoughts of Gascony. Hope arose when I passed a sign to Gascony. I was close now. I wondered how I was going to find Alexandre D'Artagnan and I feared not finding him. What would I do then? I wiped my face with my sleeve and gingerly touched the healing scar on my forehead. That would be there for a while, I thought grimly.

Finally reaching civilization, I entered a small pub. Surely the owner might know D'artagnan.

I was greeted with warmth and the friendly face of a small, stocky man with stubble marking his face.

"Excuse me, sir. Do you happen to know an Alexandre D'Artagnan from round here?" I asked, my voice shaky from tiredness.

"Of course, Miss", he replied, "Why, he left nearly a year ago with his son, Charles. Headed to Paris for some business, I suspect."

Dread coursed through me as I realised my hope was gone. What could I do now? Paris was so far, and I could barely stand!

My face paled and the innkeeper looked at me with concern. I hadn't seen concern for so long, it was strange that someone would be concerned over me!

"Are you alright, miss?"

"No, I'm not." I practically whispered. "You see, my brother needed him desperately, and I don't know what to do."

"Ah, I'm afraid I don't know when he will return. There has been trouble with his farm recently. However, you could ride with my son. He's off to Orléans, which is about a day's walk from Paris."

Looking thoughtful for a moment, he added, "You can stay here tonight, by the looks of it, you haven't slept in a while."

I considered. It was the only option I had left. I couldn't survive for any longer with the few supplies I had.

"Thank you sir, I will repay you"

He smiled, "No thanks are necessary. I'm always open to helping someone in need. The name's Albert"

I looked in wonder at this man, who had already started to pour some water for me. He held the mug out to my shaking hands.

"Drink. You need to", he said seriously.

"Thank you, sir."

He chuckled at the title and over his shoulder said, "I'll tell my son he'll have company tomorrow. Your room will be the one straight up the stairs."

I looked up the winding staircase and headed up. I didn't know whether I should trust this man. Why was he being so kind to me? Opening the door of the allocated room, I gasped. The room was small and cosy, but had a bed! I had never slept in a bed before! Scared that I would make it dirty, I decided to wash before I rested. Filling a bowl with water, I stripped of my clothes and gasped as I saw the state of my ribs. I had always been skinny, as I could never afford to eat much, but I could never see my ribs like this before. They stuck out of my skin - I could practically count them!

Some were bruised from the fight with LaBarge and I was reminded of that night.

Cleaning up, I put my clothes back on and headed down the creaky staircase. I was met by such a lovely smell. Food.

I hadn't eaten in a while, my ribs proving this, and as soon as Albert saw me, he grinned and handed me a plate full of a brown meal. I looked at it questioningly.

"It's only a stew!" He chuckled, "By the way, I never did get your name."

"It's Fliss, sir. And thank you so much, really."

He smiled sadly, "As I said before, you don't need to thank me."

I returned his smile and started eating the stew. I was shocked at how full of flavour it was. I ate it swiftly and smiled as he took the plate away.

"Hungry, eh?", he grinned as I sighed contentedly at the food, "What did your brother need with Alex?" He enquired.

At the mention of my brother, I felt the emptiness inside me once again.

"He, uh, had business with him. A job, I think."

"So why did he send you? And what happened to your face?"

The blood drained from my face. What should I say?

"He, uh, couldn't come due to ill health", I lied, "and I cut my face on a stray branch from a tree."

"Ah, I hope he gets well soon. Maybe you should avoid those trees!"

I laughed at the response, hiding my shame at lying to such a kind man.

The light soon disappeared from outside and I decided to get some rest. I knew it would be a long journey to Paris. I only hoped that I would find Alexandre.

I shuffled to my room, wincing as the blisters on my feet complained at the movement.

Lying in the bed was strange. I couldn't sleep at first because I kept feeling like I was falling. I was used to a hard floor. Shifting the jacket so it was on the back of a nearby chair, I jumped when something fell out, but relaxed when I realised it was only the small wooden ship. It was so small and I remember cutting my fingers constantly as I tried to carve more detail into it.

It reminded me of Jack so much. I ripped a strand off the rag I brought with me and twisted it tightly.

I looped it through one of the gaps between the sails and tied it around my neck.

A piece of home would always be with me now.

I fell asleep to the strange sound of rain against the glass window.

I woke shortly before the sun rose and groaned as my back ached when I sat up. I must look terrible I thought. Stumbling to the window to look outside, I saw my reflection.

My eyes, as blue as Jack's, met me and I was surprised at how obvious the scar was cutting through my eyebrow. My thoughts turned dark as I thought back to the night of the fight.

Curse LaBarge. I would get my revenge one day.

Tying my boots tightly, I then walked downstairs. A dark haired man with a small red bandana splitting his hair eyed me curiously and I shifted uncomfortably. I couldn't trust anyone.

Looking away, I followed the smell of food to Albert, who smiled at me warmly.

"Morning, Fliss", he called, "Have something to eat, you've both got a long few days ahead of you."

I looked towards the dark haired man he referred to.

"Fliss, this is my son, Edward. He'll take you to Orleans."

This Edward looked at me curiously, hair falling over his face and I looked back. I wasn't afraid, I told myself.

He nodded at me and walked off.

"He's a bit quiet, i'm afraid, but he'll get you to Orléans", Albert said, almost apologetically.

"It's okay, I'm not good company either!" I replied.

After eating, I picked up my bag, and headed to the horses that waited outside. Both were saddled and Edward was stood near one, his belongings already with him.

He looked at me darkly but I ignored him and headed to the other horse. It was a large black stallion, and I stroked it's face reassuringly.

Swinging up onto the tall horse, I grunted as my back and legs complained. As I looked over, I saw Edward still looking at me.

I didn't trust him.

"Take care, both", Albert called as we set off, "I'll see you in a few weeks Edward, and Fliss, I hope you find D'Artagnan."

"Thank you for everything Albert", I called as the horses sped up.

I would repay him one day, I promised to myself.

Turning back around, I saw Edward looking me at regular intervals. Why was he being so odd? I thought.

I was awkward riding with him, but I knew there was no going back now. I had to find D'Artagnan. He was my only hope.

We reached a river as night fell, and Edward called to stop. His dark hair contrasted his pale face, I noticed as he turned to look at me yet again.

I climbed down and started looking for firewood as Edward tied the horses up. I kept my bag over my shoulder. Years of being in La Rochelle had taught me that anyone could rob - even your friends. Not that I had ever had any.

Edward threw me some dried fruit that I had recognised Albert giving him.

"Eat", he commanded.

He was like a soldier, I thought.

"Thank you", I replied.

The silence was only broken by the horses scuffling and the fire crackling.

"Why are you really looking for Alex?" He suddenly asked.

I looked up into his hard eyes, but looked away immediately. I couldn't tell him the truth.

"He is the only chance I have left of work", I blurted out before I could stop myself.

I bit my lip as curiosity lit up his dark face. His features turned from dark to soft and I saw recognition flash across his face.

"Your brother. What is his name?" He asked.

I didn't reply.

He didn't remove his gaze. "Is it Jack?"

My eyes instantly returned to his and I felt defensiveness built up in me. How did he know?

Nodding glumly, I looked away again.

"I knew your father", he started. I looked at him, trying to figure out what he was trying to say.

"He came to Gascony", he continued, "to secure a job for Jack, I think. But he stopped at our inn for a few nights, and he defended my mother when there was a huge fight in the pub."

"I'll never forget what he did to help. That is why my father helped you. He recognised you from a small drawing your father showed him."

My eyes watered as I remembered the picture my father had taken so much time to draw of me.

"I'll see you safe to Orléans, but the road from there to Paris isn't safe, especially not for young women such as yourself."

"Thank you", I replied, my voice quiet, "but what other option do I have. I must do what I can to survive and finding Alexandre is the only option I have."

He frowned, thinking for a moment. He didn't reply, and I assumed the conversation was over. Suddenly, he made me jump ,"Can you fight?" he asked.

"I have fought once, for my brother, but I will only fight if necessary. Why?"

"You should be able to defend yourself. This road is dangerous and Paris is no safer. You could be jumped at any point in the dark alleys."

"I carry a knife, but I have no other weapons."

"Your head is the greatest weapon you have. You need to think before you act. Here", he handed me a small blade and a strange looking sheath,

"put the sheath on your left arm, the blade should fit in it. You can hide it with the sleeve of your jacket." He showed me.

The blade was surprisingly comfortable. I looked at him with confusion.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked.

"Because your father helped me." he replied looking straight into my eyes. We held each other's gaze for a moment longer.

"Get some rest, when we have breaks in the days ahead, I'll teach you to defend yourself" he mumbled over his shoulder as he turned over.

"Thank you", I whispered and turned over so my back was facing the fire. I drifted to sleep thinking of the danger Edward spoke of. This was going to be a tough journey.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks had passed since our conversation over the fire. Edward was starting to open up more, but I never once saw him smile.

True to his word, he taught me how to fight each time we stopped riding for a break. I was shocked at how much I managed to learn.

But the training took its toll as my limbs were shaking with fatigue as we stopped at an inn for the night.

He rarely spoke, only speaking when necessary, but being honest I was too tired to hold a conversation for longer than a few sentences, so I was grateful for the silence.

"I'm going to sleep now, Fliss. I suggest you also rest soon. You'll need it", he added before starting up the small wooden staircase of the inn we were at.

I looked through the window to the moonlit yard. Our horses were in the stable opposite. The moonlight was brightened by the mud mixed snow that covered the area.

I had nearly managed to fall over coming inside, but Edward had caught my arm before I really fell.

My face had flushed with embarrassment but he had carried on as if nothing had happened before I could thank him.

There was something about him that was odd.

I was wary of him, even after all that he had done.

I stretched my aching arms out tentatively as two weeks of sword training left a dull pain behind. My muscles were growing, I realised, and I felt stronger than before.

Maybe the training was really working. I felt the blade in my sleeve and pulled it out to look at it again. I had been doing so every now and then, hardly believing it was mine.

The handle was just big enough for my hand and wrapped in coarse fibre to stop my hand slipping. The blade was sharp and glinted in the candlelight of the inn.

I sighed and sheathed it again, resting my head against the cold glass, watching my breath leave it's mark before disappearing.

I needed to rest, but I couldn't bring myself to sleep yet. Sleep had been evading me as memories from La Rochelle haunted me. My brother's face. The broken lantern. Labarge's sword.

I missed the feeling of the sea rocking the world. I missed the salt in the air and the smell of fish. My hand drifted to the wooden ship held around my neck.

If only I had given it to Jack before he died.

Letting the crackling of the fire calm me, my thoughts were disturbed as I overheard the conversation from two tipsy farmers at the opposite table.

"Saw some odd looking folk with guns here yesterday."

"Reminds me of 'at shootin' a good few months ago."

Shooting? I thought. I listened closely.

"Yeh that was nearly a year ago. I remember some Musketeers came not long after that. They went to the body we buried."

"Wonder what they wanted with 'at?"

"I never found out. Probably some shifty Musketeer business."

"I 'eard Fabien say they needed a few more Musketeers in Paris."

"Heh, shoddy job that is. They get mixed with some dodgey folk."

"What? Like 'at Athos?"

"Aye, he's the one that shot that gent."

The men went silent for a moment, taking time to have a swig of wine. But I wanted to hear more.

"Did you see the fight?"

"What? The shootin'?

"Yeh"

"No, but I 'eard the shots. Could 'ear 'em from miles away. Feels like yesterday since it happened. Funny 'ow time flies."

I'd heard enough and walked upstairs to the room Edward had said was mine. After taking the jacket off, I laid the sheath and sword next to it.

After the conversation I had eavesdropped on, I wasn't very willing to have it far from me. Maybe I really would need to defend myself.

Closing my eyes, I attempted to sleep, thoughts of Paris passing through my head.

The following morning, we set off early after Edward made sure to bring as much food for my journey to Paris.

"Fliss"

I looked up, surprised at him speaking.

"Yes?" I enquired.

"You can fight now, and I'm glad. But I worry about the possibility of you not finding D'Artagnan."

"I'm not really sure where I will start looking, but I will find them", I paused, "for Jack."

He smiled slightly as the wind blew some of his hair loose. He pulled his bandana straight.

"You have heart, Fliss. But I have a bad feeling about Alex. There's been talk of bandits and wild Musketeers."

"Maybe the Musketeers will have heard about D'Artagnan. But I don't think they will want anything to do with me. I'm just a fishing girl with nothing left to lose."

I looked down at my hands, rubbing the scars that marred them.

"I have an idea", he began after some time, "I will not be there, but you could still mix with more people without me."

"How?"

"Hide your background. Blend in. Get a job somewhere simple even if it's sweeping the streets - that way you would hear all the news from around Paris."

Who would hire a woman in Paris. Even to do something simple like sweep the streets."

"Then hide that", he said.

Suddenly, he pulled the reins back and stopped his horse. I followed him and jumped off my own.

He pulled his bag with him and started searching through it. Finding what he wanted, he pulled out a small, worn pair of trousers.

"You'll need to look the part", he said with the corners of his mouth turning up.

"Is this amusing you?" I asked incredulously but took them anyway and hid behind a couple of trees. Taking off my ragged skirt, I slid the trousers on.

They were a good fit and I tucked them under my muddy boots. I walked in front of him as he judged the new look.

"Okay, that's one half", I said and pointed at my bust, "but what about this?"

Before he could reply, I answered my own question.

"Of course", I whispered and walked to my bag. After digging through it, I pulled out the long rag from home.

"I'll be back in a minute" , I said and he nodded in reply, looking very amused.

I took off my jacket, shawl and under shirt. I wrapped the rag around myself as tightly as I could but allowed room to breathe.

I dressed back up but wrapped my shawl around my middle instead of my shoulders. It was far more comfortable.

I slid the blade back onto my left forearm, before walking out again.

"You look so different", he stated, "if it wasn't for the hair, I would think you were a lad!"

He thought for a moment. Then, pulling his red bandana back and letting his hair loose, he came towards me.

"You should tie it back", he said, looking at my messy blonde hair. "Allow me"

I held my breath as he went behind me and gently pulled my hair back, twisting it up at the back while letting a few strands fall forward.

After tying the red material around my head and above my ears securely, he came round to the front and looked at me.

"What do you think?", I asked gingerly.

"I think you look like me!" he replied and chuckled. He had the same laugh as his father, I thought. Growing serious again he stated, "You'll fit right in. Now you just need a name!"

I thought for a moment and looked at him despairingly. What could I call myself?

"How about Felix" I said.

Nodding his head slightly, he laughed, "I see you like the names beginning with F!"

I smiled at the joke, but looked at him again.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" I asked, my voice hollow as I was overwhelmed with his kindness.

His smile disappeared and his hand came to my shoulder, an act that was so strange to me.

"Because you remind me of my mother" he whispered, his voice quieter than mine.

"I'm sorry", I replied saying the only thing I could think of in response. What else could I say.

"Don't be. I miss her so much, and seeing you brought back so many memories - both to me and my father."

"Thank you so much for what you have done, Edward."

"As my father said, no thanks are necessary, Fliss. Nor will they ever be."

"Aye, but I'll thank you anyway", I replied causing him to smile and squeeze my shoulder.

"Come, we must be off. We are one mile from Orléans. If you ride well, you should reach Paris by night fall."

"Ride, what do you mean?"

"Your horse belongs to Alexandre. When you find him you can return it."

"I feel like I am stealing it from you, Edward."

"Don't. It belongs to D'Artagnan."

I nodded, speechless and amazed at how light Edward and Albert had made my journey. I promised to myself to repay them one day. I always kept my promises.

I slung my bag over the stallion, D'Artagnan's stallion I thought quietly, and followed Edward.

We soon came to a split in the road, one with a sigh to Orléans, the other leading to Paris.

"We part here, Fliss, or should I say Felix." he smiled sadly, "I will miss your company."

"Edward", I started but he held his hand up and passed me a small bag, "Don't lose sleep over it. What we have done could never repay what your father did."

"Thank you", I whispered taking the bag.

I nudged the stallion but pulled the reins back when Edward called my name once more.

"Fliss. There is something you should know."

I looked at him expectantly.

"Alexandre D'Artagnan is related to your father somehow, and from what I heard they were close. Your father wanted Jack to work with Alex here in Gascony."

I looked at him, mouth hanging open. I thought all my family was gone, and now I learn that I have more! Who else was there?!

"Go to Paris, ask the Musketeers if they have heard of him, find him and don't stop on this road. It's too dangerous - even for a young man like yourself!" he added and kicked his horse laughing at his joke as he went.

"Thank you, Edward." I whispered as I watched him enter Orléans knowing that he wouldn't hear, but not caring.

I opened the small bag he had given me and found food from the inn we stayed at along with a pair of fingerless gloves.

I raised my eyebrows at the gloves but then saw the logic as it began to snow once again. I put the gloves on. They hid the scars well, I thought and stuffed the bag into my own larger one.

After tying it around my shoulders, I nudged my horse and headed for Paris.

I missed the feeling of the wind through my hair, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make if I was to "blend in" as Edward had said.

The cold bit into my face and ears and I remembered how cold I had been on the road to Gascony. I had nearly given in to my despair. How did I manage to keep going.

I wondered how close Pa had been to Alexandre. How would I know who he was? What would I do if people found out I was a woman?

I should try not to speak too much and lower my voice. Maybe I could pass as a young lad.

Where could I find a job? I could try the Musketeers, I thought as I suddenly realised how much the training with Edward would help now.

He had done so much for me. He and Albert. Pa must have really done something good for them to treat me with such kindness.

I had never met kindness from strangers before, but I knew there were few and far between that would show that kindness to me if they knew who I really was.

I let determination wash through me as I set my course for the Musketeers. Wherever in Paris they were.

I reached Paris long before night fell and I was grateful for the food Edward had given me as the pain of hunger brought me back to reality from my thoughts.

I slowed the stallion down to a walk and entered the city. It was huge! Even the buildings were giant compared to the shack at home. I wondered if anyone had noticed it was empty.

Running my gloved hand over the red bandana, I bit my lip and remind myself not to act scared. I would only be a target then.

I needed to find the Musketeers. Surely the locals would know, I thought.

Jumping off my horse as I entered a large market place, I led him with me and approached a young woman with a basket over her arm.

She must be busy, I thought, but I stopped her anyway. I blinked as she whipped her head around, long red curls flashing across her face.

I cleared my throat before I spoke, nervous that she would see through my disguise.

"Excuse me, miss. Where can I find the Musketeers?"

"You're not looking for trouble as well are you? There's been quite enough there, I think. All these stupid Musketeers! Sorry sir, I was mainly talking to myself! Over there" she pointed, "There's the garrison".

I nodded my thanks and headed to the large court yard. As I led the stallion through the entrance, I was fascinated by the soldiers sparring.

The whole garrison almost seemed alive, with soldiers always moving around while some were watching the fight.

This must be the right place, I thought.

I was unsure what to do next, and I gripped the reins tighter in a vain effort to stop my hand from shaking.

Keep calm, I thought. If only I had the courage I did when fighting LaBarge.

Before I could think, I was approached by two musketeers from a group of four who were watching the sparring while chatting and laughing.

One, a serious looking man with eyes as blue as Jack's. His straggly hair was covered by a regal hat that darkened his features.

The other was a large, dark skinned man with jet black curly hair. His huge arms were crossed confidently across his chest. Not someone I wanted to pick a fight with, I thought.

"Can we help you, lad?" the blue eyed man started, eyeing the scar on my face. Suddenly, I realised that the fight had stopped and every Musketeer was looking at me.

Lifting my chin up and with as much courage I could muster I looked him in the eye and spoke up, "I'm looking for Alexandre D'Artagnan."

 **Hi guys, I really hope you're enjoying it so far, I'm a bit new to Fanfiction so I'm still getting used to it. I've had the idea for this story in my head for ages now and I really needed to get it out! To the guest reviewer - thank you so much for taking the time to review, I know it is a bit Mary Sue-ish but I am trying to vary it a little!**

 **Thank you guys for reading it so far - will try to get the next chapter up soon :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Never before had I heard silence like this. What have I got myself into, I thought.

Every single Musketeer was looking at me in shock. Some were even looking out of the windows to see what was wrong.

I suddenly felt self-conscious and scuffed my feet before returning my gaze to the blue eyes before me. Surprise and unbelief were all I found.

Before I knew what was going on, a younger Musketeer from the same group these men came from rushed forward and pulled out his sword.

My reflexes were ready and I instinctively pulled out the dagger from my sleeve. It gave me confidence immediately.

I didn't want to fight and I couldn't imagine winning against every Musketeer in France.

The young man saw my dagger and rushed closer, his jet-black hair covered his tanned forehead.

His eyes were fierce and full of determination as he pointed his sword at my neck.

I held the handle of my own blade tighter and looked him in the eye, surprised that the other Musketeers were just standing there. This guy was crazy!

"What do you want with him?" he demanded boldly.

"I come with business on my father's behalf" I lied.

Confusion passed across his youthful face before he hid it altogether.

"Why should I believe you?" he asked, still tense.

"You shouldn't", I hesitated unsure whether to bring the fact that he was family in, "but I need to find him. A life depends on it." It wasn't the whole truth, but I was lost at what else to say

The lad smiled sadly, "How could you know about lives depending on people?" he asked rhetorically.

I answered anyway, "I'd rather not say in front of the entire Musketeer garrison."

The others got the message and started continuing with what they were doing but stopped when he continued speaking.

"Why should I trust you, boy? There's been too much happening recently - you could be lying."

"I could well be lying. But I'm not leaving Paris before I find Alexandre and his son."

"What if they don't want to be found?" he challenged.

I thought for a moment, "Then I'll look harder." I wasn't going to give up now.

I was startled when the large Musketeer came closer and spoke up, "You're stirrin' up trouble, lad. Leave."

The tanned youth still had his sword held up but I didn't care. I needed to find D'Artagnan.

Desperation rushed through me, "Please, I need your help."

"Well maybe we won't give it to you!" the lad hissed, coming closer with his sword.

I didn't back off but surprised him by sheathing my dagger. I let him press the tip of his sword to my neck.

I felt anger course through me. I was getting nowhere! With my anger came recklessness.

I gripped the blade of his sword and felt it dig into my hand but I felt no pain. My anger became stronger with the arrogant lad.

I twisted his blade from his hand, my blood dripping along to the handle.

Throwing his sword to the mud, I hissed,

"Then if you see Alexandre D'Artagnan, tell him his brother and sister-in-law are dead, and without him, I am soon to follow."

Not caring about my wound, I hauled my bag over my shoulder and picked up the reins of the horse again. When had I dropped them, I thought.

I started leaving the way I came, taking my horse with me and despairing inwardly. What should I do now?

A light hand on my shoulder stopped me, I turned to see the fourth man of the group, whose unruly hair blew haphazardly in the cool breeze.

"Wait, lad. We've had a rather stressful few days and haven't really caught up with everything yet" he apologised.

"I know the feeling" I muttered, but he heard anyway. After giving me a curious look, he continued.

"Come and tell us what you want with D'Artagnan and we'll see what we can do."

I scuffed my feet nervously, "Do you know him?"

"We may" he answered slowly, "come, there is much to explain."

I followed him back to the garrison, leading the stallion with me. I tied the reins to a nearby post and patted his nose before carrying my bag with me to some stairs where the four waited.

I followed them upstairs and into a dim room that overlooked the garrison. A rather stressed looking man who I assumed to be the Captain was sitting at a cluttered desk in the middle.

"Aramis, we should introduce ourselves" the blue eyed man stated.

"Ah, of course! I'm Aramis", the messy haired Musketeer started, "that there is Porthos" he said pointing to the large soldier,

"and this is our new recruit, D'Artagnan" he finished gesturing to the fierce lad who I had argued with earlier.

At the name, I felt time stop. This was Alexandre?

We stood there in silence for a moment and Aramis looked at me expectantly.

"Sorry" I began, "My name is Felix Barreau."

It was D'Artagnan's turn to look surprised as he looked at me.

"Are you by any chance related to Henri Barreau?" he enquired quietly.

I nodded in response, "He was my father."

"You said earlier that he was dead."

"Yes" my voice was hollow, "and my Mother."

"What of Jack?"

My breath hitched at the name and I looked at him again.

"Gone" I replied in a small voice.

I still couldn't bring myself to say he was dead. It didn't seem right.

The Musketeers looked at me in silence before D'Artagnan continued.

"Why are you in Paris?" he began, his voice quiet as he looked thoughtful.

"I was looking for Alexandre." I paused "Are you him?"

Sadness crept across his face, making him seem older.

"No, I'm not."

He sat down and his chin started to wobble as he took in a shaky breath.

"My father was murdered eight months ago."

Now it was my turn to sit down. I had come across the country only to find what I was looking for was gone. What hope did I have now?

"I'm sorry" I mumbled, "I understand what you are going through."

I didn't realise I had upset him until I felt pain as my world turned upside down.

The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, with blood dripping steadily out of my nose. I hoped it wasn't broken, but right now I couldn't think of that.

I looked up at him, shocked as he shook with rage.

"How can you possibly understand what I am going through" he snarled.

The other Musketeers stood beside him defensively, some crossing their arms, others with their hands resting on their swords, but none helped me.

I stood up shakily and tried to hide the fact that my fists were shaking.

"In the space of two months, I have lost everything." my voice was shaking but I didn't care,

"my mother, my father, my brother and my job. My only hope was a letter in Jack's pocket from your father." I paused, trying to control my emotions.

"Pa had secured work for Jack with your father, and I travelled across the country to find him. That work is the last option I have of survival."

D'Artagnan's look of anger gradually faded away.

"I'm sorry", he said blankly, "my farm is gone."

Once again, I felt dread course through me. Everything was gone, my hope included.

"What am I supposed to do now?"

He shrugged his shoulders but the others shared a look with their silent Captain.

He surprised me with his words," We need a stable hand. It's dirty work, but we'll pay you well for it."

"Sir, I will do anything you ask and give my thanks for your kindness."

He nodded in response, "Athos, I want you to train him as well, show him how we work ...and try to keep him out of trouble" he added jokingly.

"Of course, sir" he nodded.

My heart was beating faster at the thought of being with Musketeers.

Relief flooded through me at the thought of a job.

"You might want to get that hand seen to though, first" Athos said to me.

"I'll be fine" I replied. I didn't trust them.

Aramis interrupted me, "I'll be the judge of that" he said kindly but firmly.

"Come, Felix" Athos said as he headed to the door with the others following him ,"We've much to discuss."

Not wanting to argue, I followed them, wondering where this new life would take me and hoping my disguise would be good enough.


	5. Chapter 5

As I followed the Musketeers down the wooden stairs, I tried to comprehend what just happened.

I was amazed that I had found work. I never imagined that I would be with soldiers in Paris!

I cringed inwardly as guilt washed through me at my deception. They thought I was a completely different person.

But what choice did I have? I was fighting to survive.

I could have become a thief and robbed others to survive, but I knew Jack wouldn't have approved.

I would only have disappointed him more.

Remembering his words to me, I decided there on the spot that I would do everything I could to avoid disappointing these men I was to work with.

The men led me to a large wooden table while Aramis disappeared. He reappeared a moment later with a bag and gestured for me to sit down with the others.

"I apologise for my outburst, Felix" D'Artagnan began.

I replied before I could stop myself, "Don't worry, you're not the first to be angry with me."

The all paused and eyed me again, mainly the fresh scar on my face.

"How did you get that?" Aramis enquired, looking pointedly at said scar.

"I'd rather not say ... if you don't mind." I quickly added, remembering that I had to be nice.

He shrugged in response but came forward intending to check my bleeding nose.

Startled, I backed off but was stopped when he held his hands up as if I was some frightened animal.

"I need to see if it's broken" he said slowly, "I won't hurt you, lad."

I let him come closer but I didn't relax while he poked and prodded to see if it was broken.

A fear ate at me inside. I was scared he would see through my disguise.

Seeing my awkwardness, Aramis decided to start up a conversation.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you aren't supposed to hold a sword by the blade"

I knew what he was getting at. I looked at the cut on my hand, it was still bleeding.

I frowned as he picked it up and inspected it.

"I was angry ... and desperate." I replied.

"Well, it shouldn't need stitches. Just use the handle next time!" he chuckled.

He started wrapping it up in bandages.

"Why were you so desperate, Felix?" D'Artagnan started. The others saw his need for privacy and crossed the yard, busying themselves with various jobs.

Should I tell him? I suppose he was my only family now. What did I have to lose?

Should I tell him about Labarge? I was conflicting with myself but decided to tell him anyway.

I didn't meet his eyes, but I knew he was looking at me.

My voice was quiet as began.

"My parents were murdered two months ago. It was just me and my brother, Jack left."

"Fishing was our occupation and our only source of income."

D'Artagnan interrupted, "that would explain the scars on your hand" he said thoughtfully.

I nodded, and continued. "We had very little to live on. Our home was a rotting wooden shack and we lived off scraps of food and sometimes fish."

"Selling the fish was too easy as everyone in our town was near starving." I remembered how they had crowded round the barrels Jack had brought with him on the night he died.

"People were desperate, and we couldn't trust anyone but each other." I paused "One night, we came back from a day of fishing and Jack had got in a fight."

I paused and my breath hitched as I remembered the scene with bitterness.

"The town folk did nothing but steal our catch and watch the fight. Jack got beaten badly and that night he died in his sleep."

My emotions were swirling in my head and my throat tightened painfully as I remembered everything.

"I had just found out that our boat had been burnt down by the man he fought with. He was looking for revenge because I smashed a lantern over his face."

"That is how I received my scar. I didn't really care about that, only Jack."

"By burning the boat, Labarge had taken away our income and therefore food and shelter. I knew I couldn't stay and when I found the letter from your father, I knew he was my only hope."

"When I finally reached Gascony, you weren't there. I lost all my hope but the innkeeper, Alfred, and his son Edward helped me so much."

"Edward took me to Orleans and I rode to Paris alone. If it wasn't for them, I would be dead ... or worse" I added. D'Artagnan frowned at that but said nothing.

"I came to Paris and you know the rest. By giving me a job here, the Captain has saved my life. I will not fail him or any of you."

I was determined to keep that promise, and I would fight to.

D'Artagnan looked full of questions. "How did you reach Gascony?"

"With great difficulty. I walked."

He looked shocked. "Where were you from?"

"La Rochelle" I replied.

His jaw dropped open but he continued, "Who was your brother fighting and why?"

"I don't know why. Maybe I never will but the man he fought was Labarge."

At the name, the atmosphere in the entire garrison changed, as did D'Artagnan's composure.

Something like anger, unbelief and shock passed across his face at once and I looked at him questioningly.

"He was the one who destroyed my farm." he said with bitterness.

"It seems that we have yet another thing in common" I replied, "He must have been passing through the area."

The others came over, seeing D'Artagnan's distress.

"What is wrong?" Athos enquired.

D'Artagnan explained everything, and the faces of the others matched his. They were like a close family, I thought.

We sat for a while, musing quietly before Athos spoke up.

"We should show you around" he began.

The showed me around the entire garrison and I was surprised at how large it was. As they showed me the stables, they told me what needed doing.

I had to take the horses out once a day if they weren't being ridden as well as cleaning out the stables regularly and feeding the horses.

I didn't need a uniform, but they gave me extra clothes seeing as my old ones were worn thin.

After eating, Athos said, "Show me how well you can fight, Felix."

I looked at him, unsure of what he meant before he stood up and after taking his jacket off unsheathed his sword.

His hair was as unruly as Aramis's and the wind blew it around.

I followed him to the middle of the yard and took off my own jacket. I shivered as the cold made itself known.

I rolled my shoulders back and sighed as they clicked. Tightening my bandana, I pulled out my dagger and matched his bow before standing on the balls of my feet, ready for a fight.

We circled each other while he tried to lure me into striking first. I didn't so he leaned forward and aimed at me.

I countered with my dagger and soon the yard was filled with the sound of blades clashing.

He kicked me to the ground once but I rolled out of his reach and soon found my feet.

He fought differently to Edward, but I remembered the techniques I was taught and realised how much I needed them.

I was good at sliding away from the sword jumping out of the way just in time.

After a while he stopped, as breathless as me and held out his hand. I shook it as he gave his judgement.

"You fight well, just use your head and you'll be fine."

I nodded and smiled, remembering those words Edward had said when we parted.

As night fell, I didn't know what to do so I stayed with the Musketeers.

They took me to a nearby inn and drank till I could see the moon peering above the houses. I tried to avoid alcohol as I didn't want to risk losing control.

They couldn't find out about me. D'Artagnan for the most part remained quiet and thoughtful while Athos brooded, Porthos gambled and Aramis found a woman for the night.

So this was the life of the Musketeers, I thought.

I needed to sleep, but I didn't have a room.

D'Artagnan started to head out after saying farewell and I followed him, also saying goodbye.

"D'Artagnan, where shall I stay?"

He looked thoughtful, the alcohol making his eyes glaze over as he stumbled out of the inn.

"I'm sure you'll find somewhere" he grinned lazily, "Just don't be stupid, Paris isn't the safest place"

"D'Artagnan, you can't even walk straight, at least let me take you to your place."

He groaned as he emptied his stomach in the middle of the cobbled street and I turned my nose up but took his arm and practically dragged him along.

"Where do you live?" I asked.

"Mh, there" he grunted, pointing to a house in the corner of the street.

I led him to the door and knocked, not knowing if there would be anyone inside.

To my surprise, the woman who I saw in the marketplace opened it and sighed when she saw the state of D'Artagnan.

"Why he decides to get this drunk, I'll never know! Thank you for bringing him back sir, but who are you?"

"My name is Felix, miss. I just found work with the Musketeers and though you might want your husband back safely."

She shifted uncomfortably, "This oaf isn't my husband, he is our lodger."

I was surprised when a moody looking man with dark hair appeared from the shadows behind her.

"I am her husband" he stated arrogantly "and you are, sir?"

"I work with the Musketeers" I answered blankly, I didn't like this guy.

"Well, thank you for bringing this drunk fool back, but I would appreciate it if you left now!"

I raised my eyebrows at the comment but nodded to the woman, "Thank you, miss." I said and turned to leave muttering insults at her husband.

I felt sorry for her.

Heading back to the garrison, there was no one around and I entered the stables. It was surprisingly warm inside. I lit a candle and pushed some hay bales together.

Sitting down, I rested my head against the wall. I blew the candle out and tried to sleep.

But I couldn't.

I sat and listened to the horses grunt and skuffle about. The moonlight lit shafts of light through the gaps in the door, it illuminated the dust.

The atmosphere strangely reminded me of home.

Closing my sore eyes, I ignored my throbbing nose and drifted off to sleep.

 **Hi guys, hope you are enjoying the story. I am so sorry I haven't uploaded in a while - GCSEs have started and I stupidly left all my revision to the last second so I'm desperately cramming it all in before the exams, probably not the best idea!**

 **Thank you for the reviews, I love to see what people think and I'll try to write the next chapter soon :D**


	6. Chapter 6

I woke up with a sore neck as I had slept at a bad angle. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I tried to remember why I was here.

Everything came back to me in one go, and I rushed to get up suddenly as I remembered I had work to do.

It was barely morning, but there was enough light to work.

Only a few were around, some just resting their tired heads on the table as they tried to eat breakfast.

I saw the four Musketeers I had met trying in vain to shift the hangover from last night.

I was glad I didn't get drunk as not only would I have had a hangover too, but I would also have less money.

Drinking drained the money in minutes.

I joined them at the table and shivered as a cool breeze caught me by surprise. Porthos nodded at me as I began to eat.

We sat in silence as everyone tried to wake up. Banter soon started - mainly from Aramis but soon it was time to get to work.

We split up to do our jobs and I headed to the stable and started cleaning up.

The four disappeared on horseback, Aramis waving farewell to me as they left.

They must have a mission, I thought.

Cleaning the stables was tougher than I thought it would be.

My back ached from lifting the hay bales and I changed all the horses water, narrowly missing a kick from one of them.

Hopefully I would get the hang of this soon.

Time flew by and before I knew it, a grey haired Musketeer was standing at the door with some bread and an apple.

"You should eat lad" he huffed.

"Thank you, sir" I replied

"The names' Serge"

"Nice to meet you, I'm Felix"

"Welcome to the Musketeers, lad." He nodded as he left and I looked at the food he had given me.

I was sweating from the work and took my jacket off as I walked out of the stables to the table outside. Wiping my brow and frowning as I felt the scar, I ate quickly.

I was eager to get back to work as I feared losing this job. I would be stuck without it.

I drank some water and headed towards the stables with my jacket over my shoulder but Captain Treville stopped me.

"Felix, I need you to give this money to the bread market, I owe him. Give him my regards as well."

"Yes, sir" I nodded. I took the money and put my jacket on.

I headed out of the garrison and towards the market. It wasn't far away but it was so busy and I was constantly on my guard.

There could be thieves around any corner and I was used to watching my back in La Rochelle as hunger made people desperate.

Finally finding the bread market, I did as I was asked and turned to leave when a commotion stopped me.

I looked over to see seven horses without their riders. Three on one side and four on the other with their riders in front of them, swords out.

I clenched my fist in anxiety as I saw who the riders were. Four Musketeers and three red guards. All fighting one man.

Time seemed to stop as I saw who it was. A red hot rage slowly consumed me. My clenched fist was shaking as I saw him take out the Red Guards and face the Musketeers.

I saw his brutish face, with a fresh scar marring it. I felt satisfaction from the sight of it because I knew that I had caused it.

This one man had taken what I held most dear, I wouldn't let him take these newly found friends.

I ran over to the fight, taking my dagger out and joined the chaos, my one aim was to stop Labarge.

Something like recognition flashed across his face when he saw me, but disappeared as I fought his oncoming blows.

A new fear fueled me as I realised he could break my cover. I hoped he didn't recognise me.

I dodged the majority of his punches, but he still managed to hit me. Each time he did, it pushed me to the ground. I would not let him defeat me.

We defeated him, and I felt elation but through the anger. I could see conflicting emotions cross D'Artagnan's face as he saw the man who had taken his income and his home.

Athos nodded at me and Porthos breathed a thank you as I turned back to the garrison, afraid of my rage taking over me again.

I poked my sore ribs to check they were okay, and I was relieved to find they were only bruised.

Three returned from dropping Labarge off and I joined them while wondering where D'Artagnan was, just as every Musketeer entered the yard. We all looked to the Captain who stood in front of us.

"Gentlemen" he began "Finally, we have an opportunity to prove what has always been known" I stopped listening as thoughts of the fight distracted me.

I could hear Treville talking and knew it was rude not to listen but I felt a wave of tiredness wash over me. I shuffled my feet to try and wake myself up.

Athos began explaining to D'Artagnan, who just joined, that there was a competition between the Musketeers and the Red Guards to find out who was the best.

Apparently there would be a champion from each side, but I heard a collective groan as Treville announced that there would be a 30 livre entry fee. As if I had that kind of money.

Treville explained that the champion would be chosen from competitions. I was too tired to care but thoughts were rushing through my head. I knew D'Artagnan would go for the challenge.

He was desperate to become a Musketeer. I knew I would have no chance, being a stable hand.

I felt myself sway as a wave of dizziness swept over me. What was wrong with me. I had eaten not long ago, surely I should be alright.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aramis look at me. He was living up to his name of mother hen, I thought distantly.

How was Labarge in Paris? Why was he here? I hoped he wasn't looking to ruin the life I had here. He'd taken one away from me already.

I didn't realise the yard was clearing until a heavy hand on my shoulder broke my train of thought. I saw Athos eyeing me curiously.

"Are you well, Felix?" he enquired.

I nodded and gave my best smile, but I saw he didn't believe me. I felt Aramis steer me towards the table and Porthos handed me some food, but I wasn't hungry.

All I could do was worry. What if Labarge knew who I was? What would I do?

I had no hope of getting another job if this one was ruined, and even if I did, would he follow me to that one?

I heard the others discussing ways to obtain the entry fee and pretended to be interested. I was sure they would all find a way. Though D'Artagnan seemed miserable.

I wondered if he was thinking about Labarge as well.

Days passed as the Musketeers competed with the Captain watching. In between working, I watched with interest. Some of the techniques were clever. I wondered if I could use them.

I became closer to the four and often chatted with them. I slowly began to trust them, but I was still wary. The work I did was hard and I was often too tired to accompany them to the inns.

They liked their wine, I realised and often offered me some. We drank at Athos' rooms a few times, but I always reminded myself not to drink too much.

I was becoming used to their banter and often found myself joining in. It was clear that they each had every intention of being the champion.

I wondered who it would be.

One day, there was very little work to do in the garrison and Treville called me to his office. Instantly, I worried. Was my work not good enough?

I entered his office, thinking of the worst things that could happen, but he met me with a smile which I returned.

"Felix, you have been working well and I'm glad to see you are getting on with the others"

I nodded, and he continued "I need you to keep a close eye on the Red Guards"

I gave him a questioning look and he explained.

"With the competition, I worry that the Cardinal will try and cheat, I need you to watch what they are up to. Can you do that for me?"

I nodded, "Of course, sir." He smiled and I turned to the door.

"Oh, and Felix, don't tell anyone"

"Yes sir"

I shut the door behind me and headed down the stairs wondering why the Captain chose me and why he wanted this done in secret.

As I had not work to do, I left the garrison and headed to the Red Guard's garrison. I had to be careful no one saw me, though I doubted the would remember a simple stable hand.

I stopped dead in the street as I wondered if someone actually might. What would I do then? An idea struck me.

It was dangerous, but it would mean that I could do things without people noticing.

I would have to hide the scar with my hair, but it could work.

I turned into an empty alleyway and took off my top layers. I undid the tight rag around my breasts and replaced my clothes.

I had left my jacket in the stables so I didn't worry about having to leave that behind. I put my shirt on but realised it looked very masculine.

I decided to tuck it in as much as I could and I pulled my bandana out of my hair, letting the locks loose.

I smiled as I felt free again, but frowned as I remembered my trousers.

Looking round for an idea, I saw a skirt hanging out of a window. They wouldn't miss it would they?

There was no one around and I took the skirt and put it on. A clattering noise from behind startled me and my heart felt like it would break through my chest. Who was there?

I cautiously approached where the sound came from. I sighed in relief and and smiled when I realised it was just a hungry cat.

Scrunching the trousers up and hiding them behind some baskets, I looked at my reflection in a filthy window and saw myself as Felicity again.

I carefully put my hair over the scar and picked one of the baskets up as I left the alley.

I felt so different. Men eyed me differently and no one nodded as I walked by them. What a difference my look could make.

I felt vulnerable again and tried to walk as confidently as I could.

Some drunk workers outside an inn whistled as I walked by but I ignored them. This was odd.

I felt like I was in a different Paris, where society hated me even more than usual.

I saw the Red Guard's garrison and noticed how bare and cold it looked. There was no colour and even the horses looked lifeless.

The only way I could see inside was to get inside. I saw some women carrying linen in. That could work, I thought.

I put my basket down and looked to the side street where they came from. There was one last pile of linen.

Amazed at my good timing, I picked up the linen and walked inside.

The first thing I noticed was how different the Red Guards were from the Musketeers. They looked at me with lust, and some tried to speak to me.

I ignored them. There was a group of drunk Guards inside. I walked into a central courtyard and saw many guards training.

Some talked with contempt of the Musketeers. The rivalry was so clear here.

What angered me more, was to see Labarge across the large courtyard with them, laughing and drinking.

Though they laughed with him, they seemed to fear him. Maybe he was the Cardinal's plan.

I couldn't stay here any longer. If he saw me, he would definitely recognise me.

I left the linen by the wall, not caring about it any more and made to leave.

There was something off about this place, maybe it was the attitude of the Red Guard, or the ominous feeling of hatred I felt here.

Labarge was trouble, and I wanted nothing to do with him.

I left hurriedly and returned to the alley. I changed myself again and re tied my hair with the bandana. I left the skirt there and rushed back to the garrison.

I would probably have more work to do, but I needed to tell Treville what I saw.

As I had imagined, there was a lot of work to do in the stables. I say Aramis practise his shooting and had a quick chat before continuing my work.

I had tried to find Treville, but he wasn't there.

Darkness soon fell, and I decided against staying up tonight.

The competition was tomorrow and I needed to be up early to find Treville.

Curling up in the hay, I let the sound of horses send me to sleep.

I felt rocking.

I smelt salt. I could almost taste it in the air.

But something was off. The wind was so warm. I closed my eyes and smiled as it brushed through my hair.

Opening my eyes, I was shocked as my eyes met sky blue ones. Jack.

How was this possible?

My gut twisted as I saw something wrong. His eyes weren't the same, they weren't kind and loving as they always were, there was sadness and disappointment in them.

"Why are you so reckless, Fliss?

"Jack, I ... I" I stammered, unbelief in my voice.

"You disappointed me, Fliss."

The wind grew stronger but stayed warm and he shook his head slowly as I felt the world turn upside down. I fell into the grey sea, such a contrast to the warm wind.

The icy water seemed to freeze me from the inside. It was so dark. I felt nothing as the coldness seeped into my heart and the world turned black.

I reached up to touch the wetness on my face. I had been crying, the nightmare felt so real. D'Artagnan's horse was right in front of me and nudged my head.

I blinked back more tears as my mind though of Jack. He had been so hurt that night but the only thing I would change that night would be going to him earlier.

I would defend my brother to the end. Deciding against going back to sleep, I stood up and stretched before tightening my bandana and leaving the warmth of the stables.

Shivering as the cold met me, I looked up at the pale grey sky and realised that it was nearly morning. No one was around yet which surprised me.

It was the day of the competition and I wondered why no one was up practising. I desperately wished I could join the competition but I knew there was a price - one which I couldn't afford.

At least I could go and watch - the others promised that I could go to "look after the horses". It was great having friends like them.

What would I do without them? Life would be much harder.

Suddenly, I remembered the events of yesterday. I rushed up the stairs to Treville's office and hoped he was in as I knocked shakily at the door.

Hearing a grunt which I interpreted as "come in" I entered and told him all that I had seen. Including LaBarge.

He rubbed his beard thoughtfully as he mused on what the Cardinal could be planning. There were so many lies told by the authorities which made me glad I was just an ordinary person.

I never wanted be in a position of power because it would mean losing the benefits of having people to trust.

I realised that I was slowly but surely being able to trust the friends I had found. I hoped it lasted.

I was brought out of my own thoughts as Treville spoke up, "Thank you, Felix. That's all for now"

"Yes sir."

I headed to the door.

"Wait, boy" I stopped. What could he possibly want? Did he know my lie? I turned round to face him.

"Tell no one what you saw"

I nodded slowly as relief flooded through me and left the room, my footsteps loud on the wooden floor.

As soon as I left, I saw the others practising in the yard and smiled as the waved me over.

Porthos handed me some bread which I took gratefully and the usual chit-chat started.

At one point Aramis started teasing me and D'Artagnan for the lack of a beard and I anxiously defended myself saying that it was only a matter of time before I had one.

D'Artagnan was more fierce about it but we all laughed anyway - it scared me though, the possibility of them seeing through my disguise.

"Men, Gather round" We were interrupted when Treville called us and announced that he would be the champion.

The mood changed dramatically as D'Artagnan left with tears in his eyes. I looked as he went and sympathised with him.

I knew how he wanted to honour his father by becoming a Musketeer. Now he had one less chance to do so.

Most of the men grumbled and carried on practising anyway while Athos went after the Captain. I assumed he wanted to change his mind.

I let my thoughts carry me away as I got on with my own work in the stables. I had a bad feeling about this afternoon.

I became increasingly filthy as the day went on but the horses were all ready and when the time came, we headed to the competition.

Each man had their own thoughts but I exchanged worried glances with Aramis when we saw that there was no D'Artagnan.

He shook his head sadly as Athos and Porthos soon realised.

The men lined up outside the Musketeer's tent as I stood by the horses. I couldn't see which bothered me so I sat on top of Athos's horse.

This gave me a good view of the competition and I saw Athos smile at me as he saw what I had done. A smile from him was so rare.

It was replaced by a look of concern at D'Artagnan when he appeared with tears in his eyes and made a comment on love to Porthos who was boasting about his new woman.

I wanted to know more but couldn't as it was announced that the competition had began and each champion stepped forward.

Treville and ... oh no. As I saw the monster that even the Red Guards feared step forward I felt my hands shaking.

Labarge stepped forward with arrogance and I realised how much I needed to see this contest end with his death.

The fight began and I found myself cringe with every time his blade came close to Treville. Then the unthinkable happened and Treville was defeated - but not dead.

This couldn't be happening. Horror stabbed me in the heart and I felt as if a knife was twisting in my gut as Labarge was nearly announced to be the winner.

Nearly. D'Artagnan stepped forward with an anger that I knew we shared. But he couldn't have that anger in a fight, it would fuel him but distract him.

He pleaded to be the champion on the Captain's behalf as Treville was taken to the side where he clutched his shoulder.

It was granted and the fight was about to resume.

"I'm going to enjoy this" Labarge snarled. But I smiled when I heard my cousins response.

"Somehow I doubt it"

And the fight began with more fierceness than before as D'Artagnan and Labarge's blades clashed again and again with such force that I was surprised that they didn't break.

Labare tried to fuel the fire that was D'Artagnan's anger, "I wish I could remember burning down your farm"

I worriedly looked for D'Artagnan's reaction "It would make killin' you a lot easier"

Then like a bolt of lightning had suddenly sparked him to life, D'Artagnan roared as he fought harder than ever before.

I saw the emotions plastered on his face and understood every one of them. He had lost everything just as I had and now he had a chance to kill the man who had taken it away.

My only sadness was that it wasn't me doing it.

With a swift push forward, D'Artagnan buried his sword deep into the chest of Labarge and time seemed to stop.

He whispered something to Labarge as the fight died and the light faded from his eyes.

Silence reigned over the crowd which had previously being cheering and the Cardinal looked with shock as his champion had just been slaughtered in front of his eyes.

The silence was broken by the King who was treating this as entertainment. For me, and I knew for D'Artagnan, it was like something had been lifted off our shoulders.

He faced the King with tears dripped from his eyes as his emotions overflowed. I felt tears leak from my own eyes as I saw the man who had killed my brother dead.

Believe me, they weren't tears of sadness. I didn't really know what I was feeling but all I could say was that I was feeling a lot, so much that I felt as if I could explode.

To my joy, I saw the king draw his sword and in a second D'Artagnan changed from a farmer to a Musketeer. I knew that he would be happy with the outcome - more than happy.

There would be some celebrating tonight! But D'Artagnan looked so sad, like he had lost something so precious.

Unable to sit still any longer, I wiped my eyes and ran over to the others. When D'Artagnan say my eyes still sore from crying, a look of understanding passed across his face.

He hugged me so tight. Once he released me, I looked into his eyes "Your father would be proud of you"

My words brought a smile to his face and he hugged me again. "Thank you", he whispered, his voice hoarse from emotion.

We all headed back to the garrison, each one appearing at different times. When I saw the other four, I joined them and was welcomed.

Porthos seem just about to ask something when D'Artagnan just hugged him. This was weird - he wasn't usually this clingy.

To my surprise Athos joined, as did Aramis. When I saw Porthos beckon me, I also joined.

This was a family, I realised. And I felt as if I belonged here. I didn't care about the future anymore, only my friends, my family. They were all that mattered.

We broke apart and stood in a circle.

"All for one" Athos declared "and One for All" we chorused.

As we left the garrison, shoulders tapping and spirits somewhat lifting I wondered how anything could change us.

What could anyone do that would split us apart?

It would soon seem that someone was using all the power they had to tear us apart.

 **Hi everyone, hope you guys are enjoying this. I am supposed to be revising but I'm procrastinating really badly!**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews, please feel free to tell me what you think of the story so far.**

 **Next chapter will be up soon ... hopefully before I have any more exams :)**


	7. Chapter 7

"Honestly, I will have one soon and when I do it will be much better than yours, Aramis!"

"That's impossible Felix. My beard is the finest in Paris, I'll have you know" he boasted. "Wonder which woman told 'im that" Porthos added, cracking a smile from Athos and D'Artagnan. Our conversation had been going for hours and after nearly a year of knowing them, I was becoming used to Aramis teasing me. We sipped wine in front of the fire which crackled in the comfortable quiet as rain tapped on the window.

We were celebrating D'Artagnan's birthday, which was a month after mine. I had become part of their funny family and considered it my own. There were few people I trusted in the world and they were all in this room - apart from Treville that is. Though I cringed with guilt as I remembered that they still thought I was Felix. I needed to tell them.

"Listen, guys, there's something you should know" I began, but was interrupted by a rather tipsy Aramis who slurred slightly as he spoke.

"Felix, what I want to know is where your beard is" I rolled my eyes and realised I had better wait until I told them the truth. But I would tell them soon. I smiled and the banter continued until we were soon playing a quiet card game.

D'Artagnan spoke up "Thank you for this, it's one of the best birthdays I've ever had and I mean it." I didn't know what to say, but nodded in understanding. The others did the same, with Aramis patting his shoulder. I was surprised when D'Artagnan addressed me, "How old are you, Felix? When is your birthday?" I looked up and realised they didn't actually know my age. What would they think?

"My birthday is on the twenty-first of January"

Porthos chimed in, "Why didn't you tell us? We would have celebrated!"

"Of course we would! So how old are you?" D'Artagnan added

I took a swig of wine before I told them "I'm seventeen". Athos raised one eyebrow while the others looked shocked. Aramis rubbed his beard and then grinned. "That explains the lack of facial hair" We all chuckled at that.

"You are a good fighter for you age, Felix"

"Thanks Porthos, I've had good teachers" He grinned at my response. The conversation continued and they soon fell asleep slumped over the table with Porthos resting his head on the back of his chair, snoring loudly. I smiled when I saw them. After finding out that I had slept in the stables for a month, they all went mad and Athos insisted that I stayed in the spare room at his place. I felt like I was being a burden but they pretty much locked me in the room! Finally I agreed to stay as long as I wasn't a burden. I grimaced as a shaft of sunlight made my eyes hurt and suddenly realised that we had to be up for duty at the garrison. I shook them all awake and was met with glares from Athos and grumbles from D'Artagnan and Aramis.

We walked stiffly to the garrison with Athos mumbling about his headache. I enjoyed their company and after breakfast, I hated to be parted from my friends when I worked in the stables or when they went away on missions. But they always came back and greeted me with a hug, though Athos usually just nodded.

Time seemed to fly by but I enjoyed being with the Musketeers and each day as I worked with the horses, I felt a growing need to tell the truth gnawing at me. Treville had sent me to spy on the Red Guards again last week but I saw nothing of interest. I had found a good view point where I could see inside their yard without being caught. I wondered why he wanted to know more about them but shrugged it off. I trusted Treville so I did what he asked but I was wary of the Cardinal.

He twisted words to gain the King's favour and that often damaged the Musketeers reputation.

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One day changed everything. It stuck a knife into our little family and twisted it. I was in the stable changing the horses water and heard the usual sound of metal clashing. Everything was normal. The others were out practising. I took the old water outside and, after pouring it out of the bucket, stood up and stretched as I watched the fight.

Athos beckoned me over to where he and Porthos were watching D'Artagnan and Aramis fighting. It was on the very far side of the yard and I watched as Aramis pulled D'Artagnan to the floor before grinning and helping him up. I grinned and headed back to the stables but as I reached them I noticed that Athos was following me.

"I'll fight you if you like, Felix"

I smiled, "of course, if you think you're good enough!" He smiled back.

"I just need to give the horses fresh water and then I'll come over"

"Okay, here I'll help" I opened my mouth to refuse but he filled a bucket up anyway and followed me as I went back into the stables to change the second bucket. "I didn't realise you were so young, lad" he began. The horses shifted nervously next to me and I frowned in confusion. Why would they be scared of Athos?

I smiled weakly at Athos, "You'll still fight me though?" I enquired. He smiled and opened his mouth to reply when he suddenly stopped and a frown replaced his smile. "What's wrong?" He looked at me, "Can you smell smoke Felix?"

I could, "Maybe Serge burnt some food?" I suggested. We both looked out of the stable but saw no smoke from the kitchens. The smell was getting stronger and it made my eyes sting. The fire was close wherever it was. I was just about to ask Athos where it could be from when the horses violently started to kick and scramble around. I turned and to my horror I saw smoke coming from the back of the stables where the straw was kept.

"Athos, get the horses out, I'll try and stop the fire" I was surprised when he didn't glare at me for giving orders but he hurriedly started to untie the horses. I grabbed the bucket he had just refilled and hurried to the back room. Smoke was billowing out now and I vaguely heard Athos calling the others for help as he led the horses out. I saw the flames as they reached up and licked the roof at the back.

How did we not notice? How did it start? I didn't have time to question, only to do the one thing I needed. I had to stop it from spreading. I poured the water on the fire but shouted in frustration as it did very little and the fire touched my hand. It was getting out of control now. I kicked back any more hay in hope that it wouldn't catch alight.

I ran back for more water but stopped when I heard Athos cry out from where the last horse was. It was D'Artagnan's horse which was well known for its temper. It was kicking and pulling on the reigns but Athos was clutching his stomach where a hoof had caught him. I had to get them out. The air was thick with smoke and I felt my eyes watering and my nose burning as I breathed it in. I put Athos's arm over my shoulder as the horse pulled free and ran out of the door.

I could hear shouts from outside as the yard came to life. The wood creaked loudly above us but I stopped when I saw a figure against the bright orange flames. Was it a Musketeer? "Get out!" I yelled hoping he would hear me. The smoke was too thick to see anything but a dark shadow but the shadow moved away. I focused on getting Athos out. We were so close to the door when the roof above it collapsed in front of it.

"NO!", I choked. Athos grunted in pain as I let him go and started kicking at the rotting wood in front of us. I ignored the pain in my hand and called for help. Finally I saw daylight and saw Musketeers outside desperately trying to break the wood that separated us. As the gap grew wider, I picked Athos up who was slumped against me. I saw Porthos's face in the light and as the hole was large enough for one person I pushed Athos first.

My mind was slowing down. I knew I needed to move but everything was so slow. Athos was through and I could hear voices echoing around , were they echoing? The world seemed to tilt and I heard wood crashing down behind me. I pushed forward to the daylight and tried to breathe. I was on cold mud in the yard. Athos was there, on the ground with Aramis and D'Artagnan supporting him. Was it D'Artagnan?

The noises blurred together and I gave in to the darkness that choked me.

##########################

Waking up was hard. I wasn't alone, that much I knew. My eyes burned as I slowly tried to open them. I could smell smoke and my eyes watered as I blinked to clear the burning feeling. I was on the floor of a dark room. Where was this place? I hadn't seen it before. My back ached and I groaned as I sat up. How long had I been here? I could see daylight through the window. My hand was covered in bandages and it burned to breathe. My jacket was on a table in front of me along with my shirt. I blinked slowly. My shirt. My shirt was on the table. I looked down to see my breasts still covered by the rag I often used, now blackened with smoke down the front. Oh no. I felt like the world was ending. They knew.

They knew that I had lied. I went to stand, but the clanging of chains stopped me. I looked down to my left wrists and saw that I was chained. How did I not notice? Someone coughed from above me. It was Porthos.

"Porthos" I croaked.

His frown told me everything. "You've got a lot of explaining to do, girl" he snarled. For the first time since I had known him, I felt afraid of him. I saw pure hatred in his eyes. "Why am I in chains?"

"I will do the askin' here, girl"

"Porthos, please, I had no choice" I began, my heart beating wildly.

"What? You chose to burn down the stables!"

I stopped at that. What?

"What are you talking about? Do you really think that I would ever hurt Athos or any other Musketeer?"

"Honestly I don't know what to believe. I believed you were a lad called Felix for over a year." I went quiet. He had a point. "My name is Felicity" I said quietly.

"I don't care what your name is, but you are a criminal now, girl" I flinched at his tone.

"Why? My only crime is lying, something I am ashamed of, but I had no choice."

"I don't matter if you ashamed or not. You nearly killed Athos with your fire. You're no better than LaBarge." His last comment made me stop. My heart seemed to stop too. I looked up at him again as tears fell from my eyes but I found no pity. He really believed that I had done this.

"Is Athos alright?" I whispered.

"His heart stopped and he hasn't woken up, but why would you care?"

"What do you mean he's not woken up?" His silence answered everything. No. This wasn't possible. He couldn't be dead surely? Porthos would be crying like I was now. My tears dripped onto my chest but I didn't care. "He can't be gone!" my voice broke. Porthos frowned and opened his mouth to speak but stopped when Treville entered with another Musketeer.

"She's to be taken to the Chatelet to await further trial" he spoke blankly.

"Captain, please, I didn't do this" I tried to tell him what really happened but was silenced by his glare.

So he believed that I had done this too.

Porthos grabbed me by my bicep and hauled me up as I grunted in pain. Everything ached. My chains rattled as I walked through the yard with Porthos's hand never leaving my arm. Every Musketeers in the yard looked up from their work and at me with disgust and hatred. I had lost all their respect, I thought grimly. What a contrast this was from the last evening with the Musketeers where we were a family. Family didn't break this easily did it? Walking through the streets, I tuned out the mocking and the laughing. I saw Constance at the market and she met my eyes with a look of confusion. I just looked away. Maybe she would believe that I had done this too.

The Chatelet was a dark building surrounded by cobbled and filthy streets. It was darker inside, which I thought was impossible. Porthos and another guard led me inside. The first thing that reached me was the stench. The smell of who knows what was stronger than the burning smell of smoke from the fire. Men behind bars stared at me, some whistled but I ignored them. Finally, we reached a door with bars across it. It opened with a screech and the guard chained me to the far wall. I had room to move my arms, but not far.

Porthos turned to leave. "Porthos, wait." He stopped but didn't turn to look at me.

"Do you really believe that I would betray any of my family?"

He replied almost tiredly, "I don't know what to believe any more" before walking out and the door was slammed shut making me flinch.

My stomach dropped when I realised that my lie had cost the trust of those closest to me.

The damp air was musty and cold, as were the dirt floor and the walls. I missed my jacket now. I noticed that I still had the wooden ship tied across my neck. That was all I had left now. How could I lose two families? How did the fire start? If only Athos was alive to tell the others the truth. I felt a coldness run through my insides. He was dead. Dead like Jack. I had lost two brothers now. Tears fell from my eyes, but all emotion was gone. I felt as cold and dark as the cell I was in. My feelings crept away and all I felt were the tears running down my filthy face.

What did I have to live for now? My last hope was that the others would one day know the truth. My sentence could be one of death - I only hoped I could die with the truth being told. I hoped I would die soon. This world was cold and cruel. It took more than it gave and stole any happiness. I closed my eyes but it seemed that even sleep was taken away from me. I listened to angry prisoners rattling their chains to annoy the guards who spat of those close enough. When would I know my sentence?

I thought over what happened. Athos was gone. My mind spun faster as thoughts of Athos and the Musketeers rushed through me. I felt so empty and tears streamed down my face. Why had this happened. I sobbed and cried harder than ever before - even when Jack had died I hadn't cried this hard. After what felt like forever, my tears slowed and I leant my head tiredly on the wall behind me. What was I feeling? I felt the coldness on my skin but I didn't care. Inside I felt nothing. My sadness and loss overwhelmed me and I felt dead to the world around me. It was like I wasn't even there. I felt numb.

Hours passed before I heard rattling at the door and saw two guards there as it was opened. The guards looked drunk but I knew better than to say anything. One kicked my leg. "Time to face your sentence, wench". I said nothing as I found no fire in me any more to argue. I wanted to feel angry at these men, but couldn't. I stood up as they released me from the wall and they shoved me out of the cell to the front of the Chatelet. I wanted to fight them. I wanted to scream my innocence and break free from this hell. But I simply couldn't. Not anymore.

The street was filled with a crowd. It seems that I was not the only one who would have a sentence passed on them today. There were about ten other prisoners lined up. Each one stood on a tall scaffold as a judge looked intensely at a paper and loudly passed a judgement. He looked stern and had jet black hair that fell over his forehead. The crowd cheered whenever they approved and often threw rotting fruit and stones at the prisoners who scowled and often shouted in return. Soon it was my turn. I would usually feel nervous in front of a crowd and my knees would shake. But not today. Today I felt nothing. The usually boisterous crowd fell silent when I stepped up. It must be rare for them to see a girl on the scaffold.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath as the judge stared hard at the paper he was holding. I wondered what it said. I looked up and found four familiar sets of eyes, Porthos, Aramis, D'Artagnan and Treville. No Athos, I thought. They looked at me with distaste and no pity. They thought I had killed Athos. I felt the numbness inside of me grow stronger. Why was I not feeling anything?

The judge spoke up confidently. "Felicity Barreau, you stand accused of lying to the King's Musketeers, the harm of a King's Musketeer and damage to the garrison of the King's Musketeers." Where was murder in that sentence? It only said harm.

"Have you anything to say in your defence". I breathed in, it was small but it was a chance. I looked into the eyes of the four in the crowd and spoke up

"I lost everything but gained more with the Musketeers. I would do nothing to destroy the family I have found." I didn't remove my gaze from their eyes, but Treville looked away and frowned as did D'Artagnan. I looked down as the judge spoke up.

"It is difficult to know if you speak the truth. There is no evidence that defends you yet it is proven that you are a liar." I sighed, no one would believe me. Lying had been a great mistake, but what choice did I have?

"Felicity Barreau, you are hereby sentenced to twenty lashes to be carried out immediately in the yard of the King's Musketeers for your lying so that an example is made." He paused, "You will be tied in that yard until noon tomorrow for all to see what happens when one of the King's Musketeers are attacked from the inside. After those three days, you are sentenced to death by hanging for the damage done not only to the garrison, but to the regiment."

The sentence weighed heavily on my shoulders. This was going to be hard. I waited for the cheering to begin and looked up when there was none. As the guards prepared to lead me to the garrison, I looked into the eyes of the four Musketeers that stood there. I saw shock, I saw sympathy, I saw anger.

And when I met the eyes of D'Artagnan, I saw sadness.

 **Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will be up soon hopefully :)**


	8. Chapter 8

They led me down the stairs of the scaffold. The crowd was still in silence and they parted as I was led through them. I looked at some of their faces. Some looked at me as if I was dirt, while others looked concerned. I couldn't look at the four Musketeers. I couldn't face their disappointment. But what did it matter? I would be dead at noon tomorrow.

I always wondered what happened after you died. Would I see Jack again? All I knew was that I wanted to get out of this world. All there was here was sadness.

The walk was in silence and out of the corner of my eye I could see Aramis and Treville on the left, with Porthos and D'Artagnan on the right. They were looking at me, but I couldn't return their gaze. My fight was gone. If they wanted me dead, then let me die. I couldn't live knowing that they hated me. It would be over soon.

There were two Red Guards escorting me. They were rough with me and often pushed me hard. At one point I tripped and fell onto my knees, skidding along the harsh cobble. I felt the skin tear on my knees and shins, but had no time to stop as I was roughly hauled back to my feet by the mocking guards. I could feel blood begin to trickle down my shins, but I didn't care.

It would be over soon.

The worst part was walking back through the garrison. Already there was a very small scaffold set up in the yard, in plain sight. They were prepared it seemed. There was a post which I was thrown to my bloody knees in front of, my hands snatched roughly and tied tightly around the post. My bare back was only covered slightly with the rag. This was going to hurt. Already the rope began to bite into my wrists. It was so tight and I had no chance of pulling away. I wanted to look for the others, but I couldn't see them.

I heard someone step up behind me, their heavy footsteps loud on the wood scaffold. I looked up to see who was there and to my horror I saw Porthos. Should I say something? I saw anger and a hint of regret on his face but I kept looking.

"Porthos" I croaked. I was so thirsty. He met my gaze. "I'm sorry you have to do this" His look changed to one that I couldn't read. "You betrayed us and hurt Athos. I'm not sorry" I looked into his eyes as the little feeling of hope I had died. I slumped in defeat as I realised that he was hurt by a betrayal. The only thing is, I didn't do it. I couldn't blame him for doing hating me could I?

I turned around as I heard him breathe in before the first crack came. It struck like lightning across my back and left a line of fire. I clenched my fists and shut my eyes. I would not cry out. That was my last aim. I didn't care if I died but I cared if I cried out. I wouldn't let them see my pain. An agony that was so great it numbed all other emotions I should have felt. I should have felt fear at the thought of death. I should feel angry at the wrong judgement and such bitter grief at the loss of another family.

But I only felt an agony which reigned over my heart.

The whip came down again and again and I didn't bother counting any more. I lost count. The fire on my back grew more fierce and I sucked in a breath as the whip caught a previous lash. That hurt. But it didn't stop. I felt the world blur but focused on the sound of the whip. The crack that was never mistaken. It snapped through the haze in my mind.

I didn't notice when it stopped, I held my breath as I waited for another but it never came. I couldn't look up to Porthos. I couldn't meet the faces of the other Musketeers who had crowded around to watch, some in front and others behind. They were my comrades and brothers. They were all I had. Could they ever forgive my lie? I saw a darkness creep into my vision but I didn't care. I let it consume me until I knew no more.

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There was a fire on my back. But I let it burn. I couldn't stop it because everytime I tried to pull my wrists, a rope dug in. I opened my eyes to see night cover the garrison. The yard was lit by two fires, one near me and another by the entrance. There were Musketeers around that one, but I couldn't see who. I was so cold though the fire was near me. The warmth couldn't free me from the icy breeze that surrounded me. My neck hurt from how I had passed out and my knees stung from the fresh cuts on them. I looked up at the sky briefly and noted that it would soon me morning. Cracks of pale blue peeked through grey clouds.

I closed my eyes as tiredness made them feel heavy. They seemed to burn. I smiled when I felt my bandana still tied in my hair. What would Edward think? Sighing, I licked my dry lips. I hadn't eaten or drank for a while. I wondered how long ago the fire was. Even in the darkness, I could see the black mess of the stables. How did it start? I didn't care about that anymore, the numbness growing stronger. I would soon be as dead as I felt, I just wanted it all to be over.

I felt a hot flash before cold returned. My joints ached in a way which I hated. I was becoming sick, I realised. I suppose that being outside in the winter of Paris wasn't really very good for your health. At least I would only have to endure this for a short time now. I breathed out but my breath caught in my throat and I coughed suddenly. Sore muscles pulled and my raw back protested at the movement.

Before I could stop it, I groaned loudly. This was horrible.

I heard the Musketeers muttering around the fire but my strength was leaving me and I shut my eyes as everything suddenly felt so heavy.

It was daylight when I woke up and the fire next to me was only glowing now. I felt the cold in full force as a harsh wind blew through the yard. I heard Musketeers talking loudly but didn't care what they said. I lifted my head slightly but winced as my back pulled.

How long had I been here? Was it nearly time? I assumed that it was as more Musketeers and members of the public entered the garrison. Why did people see death as entertainment? I heard someone approach me but I didn't feel scared. Impossibly, I felt emptier than before

I sighed in relief as I was cut loose from the post and some feeling returned to my hands painfully. I looked down at my raw wrists and winced. Why didn't they hurt more? I groaned loudly as I was heaved up and my the burning in my back intensified. I was led to the middle of the scaffold and onto a chair but I didn't really know what was going on.

They would hang me now. That was all I knew. I swayed and the world tilted when the noose was pushed roughly over my filthy hair. I felt dizzy at the extra height. I looked up to see the entire regiment before me. Treville was stood on the balcony above and looked at me with serious eyes. I looked for my friends. Finally, I found D'Artagnan and Porthos standing with their arms crossed. No Aramis. He must really hate me.

The hangman offered me a hood but I weakly shook my head, frowning when it made the world tilt again.

I could hear the crowd talking and someone loudly announcing my sentence once again to my left. What had gone wrong? The man to my left addressed me and by the tone of his voice I decided that he was asking me a question. My only answer was to sway dangerously as a wave of dizziness accompanied by pain washed through me. I looked up into the eyes of Treville and then to my friends, trying to tell them how sorry I was for everything that had gone wrong.

But I had no feeling left, and I felt an eerie stillness in the yard.

It seemed to go on for all eternity.

Shouting from the yard tore through the dull buzz in my head and seemed to echo. Someone next to me was shouting back. What was going on? Why wasn't I dead yet? Suddenly I heard the familiar sound of swords being unsheathed reached across the yard as chaos arose. The chair underneath me was kicked out.

I was falling. The floor beneath me disappeared and my head was wrenched up as I was left hanging by my neck. I couldn't breathe. The world was going white and grey and all I could hear was myself choking to death.

I would be over soon.

I waited for death but met the wood of the scaffold instead. My knees and back protested while my head smacked against the wood painfully. I couldn't breathe and clawed at my neck. I made the mistake of rolling on my back. I heard voices near me and shaky hands pulled the rope from my neck. I felt a cold blade against my wrist cutting through rope which I didn't even know was there.

Someone was calling but I could not answer. Everything felt off and I felt detached from what was going on.

As the pain increased, I cried out. I was turned onto my side which ignited the pain in my back.

Slowly, oblivion consumed me and I let it.

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 **Hey everyone, I'm sorry I haven't uploaded in so long, it's been a long summer but hopefully I'll be able to upload more often. Thank you all for reading :)**


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